A vision as of crowded city streets, <br /> With human life in endless overflow; <br /> Thunder of thoroughfares; trumpets that blow <br /> To battle; clamor, in obscure retreats, <br /> Of sailors landed from their anchored fleets; <br /> Tolling of bells in turrets, and below <br /> Voices of children, and bright flowers that throw <br /> O'er garden-walls their intermingled sweets! <br /> This vision comes to me when I unfold <br /> The volume of the Poet paramount, <br /> Whom all the Muses loved, not one alone; -- <br /> Into his hands they put the lyre of gold, <br /> And, crowned with sacred laurel at their fount, <br /> Placed him as Musagetes on their throne.<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/shakespeare-2/
